


home is where the heart belongs

by breakmystrings



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Drowning, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-02 08:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16301852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakmystrings/pseuds/breakmystrings
Summary: Auston dreams about it every night, the hauntingly beautiful blue eyes that are somehow full of warmth even in the deep cold sea.  There’s pale, rough skin that slips right through Auston’s fingers when he tries to grab on, a glimpse of something long and slender that catches light even in the water that Auston can never quite make out, but it propels them through the water and back up to the surface.Auston… he doesn’t understand it, but the one constant is that he wakes up feeling absolutely certain that it’s Mitch.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Link to Art: [Playlist + Cover Art](https://topcopbobrovsky.tumblr.com/post/179235328176/a-playlist-to-accompany-home-is-where-the-heart)
> 
> Thank you yeswayappianway for putting together this amazing cover art and wonderful playlist for my fic (also for indulging my impatience and wanting to post right away <3)! Everyone should go give it a listen while you read this because the songs are absolutely lovely <3
> 
>    
> More detailed warnings: there's a pretty detailed scene where one character drowns and has a pretty bad experience later on again because of it.
> 
> Thank you so much to [zaitseev](https://zaitseev.tumblr.com/) for looking this over for me and making sure my ending wasn't terrible, as well as for listening to me blabber about this fic throughout the process <3 Any remaining mistakes are my own. Also, big thanks to the HBB mods for running this event :)

_“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”_ – Wayne Gretzky

 

~

 

Auston’s sinking.

 

The water feels calm and still, but his limbs are too heavy, like there’s a weight pulling down on them that he can’t see. It’s so cold, this chill that he feels right down to his bone and physically pains him.

 

He can’t breathe.

 

His brain screams at him to move, to thrash, to do _anything_ , to pull himself back up towards air and safety and _away_ from this hell, but nothing happens. He can’t move. He feels detached from the rest of his body. His mind tells him one thing, but his body is doing something completely different. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, how much he screams at himself, he just can’t _move_. Even when he opens his eyes, there’s nothing in front of him. The ocean is terrifying.

 

Auston gives up.

 

He keeps sinking. It’s still cold, and he keeps sinking into this void that chills him inside out.

 

He’s sinking, sinking, sinking… until suddenly, he’s not. The terrifying calm that surrounded him shatters like a fallen glass and Auston chokes as he clings to that very last breath. He feels something twitch, his body _finally_ responding, as if the only thing it needed to listen to his commands was _hope_ , some kind of sign that he _was_ going to make it, and he holds onto it with every last bit of strength he has left.

 

The touch is cold. So, _so_ cold, but it gives Auston hope. When he opens his eyes, he can barely make out the shape of a face that’s too difficult to see clearly in the deep sea, but those eyes, they’re as bright as the clear blue skies, like this shining beacon of life, and Auston… Auston would recognize those eyes anywhere. They’re so warm and familiar, and Auston flashes back to all those times he’s stared straight into them and was asked to _believe_.

 

Auston fights.

 

*

 

The room is too bright, and it hurts Auston’s eyes when they flutter open. He shuts them immediately, grimacing against the harsh brightness that stings his eyes, but that’s not the only part that hurts. His head is pounding, his limbs are heavy with a soreness that reminds him of being bag-skated all day until his legs give out and he needs to throw up. He opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a rough, guttural groan; this raspy thing that’s unrecognizable to his own ears.

 

“Oh thank _fuck_.”

 

Auston feels something touch his shoulder. He squints at the blurry shape, but it’s too hard to focus when the lights are so bright. It takes a long time for him to blink away the fogginess in his eyes to see who’s actually there.

 

“Mo?” Auston shuts his eyes again. The light _hurts_.

 

“Hey, don’t sleep again,” Mo says, his touch gentle when he shakes his shoulder, except it still makes his brain hurt.

 

“Too bright,” Auston mutters, and he hears some rustling before the lights are, mercifully, flipped off.

 

“You scared the shit out of us,” Mo says, and that’s when Auston finally notices how tired he looks, like the time Babs made them skate until they fell over after they lost in embarrassing fashion to the Lightning. He looks _exhausted_. It’s too much for Auston to process, except when he looks away, all he sees is Freddie hovering on the other side of him with a matching expression on his face.

 

“Where are we?” Auston asks. He doesn’t recognize the room, but it reminds him of a hospital with the too-white walls, the bright lights, and clinically clean scent. “Hospital?” Auston sees Mo nod his head in his peripheral.

 

“Do you remember what happened?” Freddie asks.

 

“I –“ Auston stops. He remembers being on a boat with Mo and Freddie and a few other people. He remembers laughing and drinking while the sun was high and warm. It was a beautiful day. That’s probably why they let their guard down and why they didn’t expect the storm to hit so suddenly. He remembers the boat rocking dangerously, remembers trying to duck for cover and hold on, but one second the ground was solid but moving under his feet, the next, the cold hit him like a shock to his system. He fell.

 

It takes Auston a while to tell them everything he remembers, pausing between words when his throat feels too parched to continue.

 

Mo nods his head again, this time looking pained. “We freaked. Couldn’t see you because the waves were so crazy. Freddie was ready to jump in anyway, but out of nowhere, you came up next to the boat and we were able to pull you back in. We went straight to the hospital as soon as the waves calmed down because you were completely out. Thank god the scans came back all clear.”

 

Auston shuts his eyes again, this time out of exhaustion. “This is why I don’t like the ocean.” He hears a choked laugh, and he can’t help the smile at landing a joke even now.

 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure Babs and Dubby are never going to let you near open water again,” Mo says.

 

“More like out of their sight,” Freddie adds. Auston laughs, or he tries to, but what comes out is a pathetic scratchy sound. It doesn’t take long before he feels a plastic straw touch his lips, and Auston sucks down every drop of water he can. The relief is instant, and his brain feels like it clears up enough that he finally remembers to ask, “Where’s Mitch?” He didn’t see his face, but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere, that familiar look of determination, fierce and inspiring… Auston is _sure_ they belong to Mitch.

 

The mirroring expressions Mo and Freddie gives him says otherwise though.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mo asks, suddenly fussing over Auston and checking him over like he’s looking for something physically wrong with him. He even checks the tubes like he’s some kind of doctor or nurse.

 

“Yeah, I think you might’ve walked a bit too close to the light there,” Freddie jokes, but his touch is gentle when he pats Auston’s head. He squeezes down on Auston’s shoulders, and while he’s teasing, Auston can tell he’s worried too. “Your crush must’ve been messing with your brain.”

 

Auston sputters. “I don’t have a _crush_ ,” he protests, but it comes out sounding petulant and it makes him feel like a kid. His cheeks suddenly feel very, very warm.

 

Mo is a lot kinder, once he’s stopped poking and probing at Auston like he knows what he’s doing or how to find a hidden injury, but Auston almost prefers Freddie’s teasing tone because _this_ , this makes Auston feel like he’s done something wrong. “Mitchy is back home with his family. He didn’t come on the trip with us.”

 

“Oh.” Auston feels his face get even warmer when he flashes back to a week ago at his place with Mitch, asking him one last time if he was _sure_ he didn’t want to join them, and the inevitable disappointment he felt when Mitch shook his head and said he promised his family he’d spend time with them. Which, Auston totally gets. Family’s important and they’re away from them a lot. Still, it didn’t stop the disappointment from sinking in, like a weight that dragged him down, but he got a nice hug out of it at least before they parted ways. Mitch also smiled warmly at him and told him to snap him even if he wouldn’t get reception at the cottage where him and his family were going. This trip was always just going to be the three of them and no Mitch.

 

Fuck.

 

“Water probably clogged my brain,” Auston says, deflecting. He tries to smile to show them that he’s fine, _really_ , even if he half-hallucinated his best friend showing up at a place he definitely couldn’t have been.

 

Mo lets out a weak laugh, and Auston thinks he’s off the hook because he mostly looks relieved now and Freddie just quirks a small helpless smile at him. He tries to pay attention when they switch gears and update him on the team with all their well-wishes, messages from his _parents_ (oh god, he can only imagine the phone call he’s going to have to make later), but all he can think about is how that hallucination, that _image_ , felt too real to be fantasy.


	2. Main Story

Auston dreams about it every night, the hauntingly beautiful blue eyes that are somehow full of warmth even in the deep cold sea. There’s pale, rough skin that slips right through Auston’s fingers when he tries to grab on, a glimpse of something long and slender that catches light even in the water that Auston can never quite make out, but it propels them through the water and back up to the surface.

 

Auston… he doesn’t understand it, but the one constant is that he wakes up feeling absolutely certain that it’s Mitch. He’s never left to drown, never hauled down to the chilling depths of the sea with the last remaining dregs of life choked out of him.

 

Perhaps Auston did make it up in his head. Mitch and him _do_ spend a lot of time together at and away from the rink, so maybe it makes sense that he’d call out for Mitch to come save him instead of Freddie or Mo, who were both right there with him. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a natural by-product of their weird codependence. It definitely has nothing to do with any dumb crush.

 

The accident ends their bye-week trip pretty quickly and Auston spends his last few days in Toronto repeatedly reassuring everyone that he’s fine, that no, he _doesn’t_ need his parents to come look after him (as nice as it would be) and getting poked and probed, _again_ , by the team doctors to make sure he really is fine.

 

He’s just settling back into a routine when Mitch comes over to hang out. He’s smiling when Auston opens the door for him and there’s a bounce in his step as he walks in. He looks loose and happy, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He’s much calmer than before their break when he was a bundle of nerves and stress like something was crawling under his skin and the only time he wasn’t dragged down and rattled was when he was on the ice, where his line was scoring goals at will and the team was absolutely dominating with way more wins than losses and making the “contender” label feel more real each and every day.

 

“Hey dude,” Mitch says cheerfully, his smile softening as he tugs Auston in for a hug. Auston wraps his arms tight around his shoulders and he lets himself sink into the feeling of Mitch’s warm body against his. Mitch always gives great hugs. It’s like he stretches himself bigger to make it all-encompassing, until there’s little to no space left between them, like he wants to be so close that they can actually feel the other person’s heartbeat. Auston loves Mitch’s hugs. He squeezes extra hard and sighs when he feels Mitch do the same.

 

When Mitch pulls back, it feels too soon, even if it already lasted longer than strictly “bros” but that line with Mitch has always been blurred to the point of non-existence. Whenever Auston thinks he should pull back because he went too far, Mitch always manages to pull him right back in like he wasn’t close enough to begin with. It’s one of Auston’s favourite things about him, how freely he hands out his affection like it’s not something to be earned.

 

“How’s your family?” Auston asks when the silence between them has dragged on long enough and Auston has to do something to stop himself from being stupid, like pull Mitch right back into his arms again.

 

“They’re good” Mitch says, his smile brightening the way it always does when he talks about his family. He doesn’t share a lot of details about them, and Auston’s learned to take what he gets and not press for more. The one thing he does know is that his family doesn’t like to be in Toronto, with the exception of his brother who’s actually come to a couple games, and it’s almost always Mitch going off somewhere to see them.

 

Auston still remembers the earlier days, before he learned not to be a dumbass with only hockey on his brain and how to navigate, like, real human emotions; he remembers learning about Mitch’s parents’ reluctance to see him play, and at the time, Auston couldn’t understand how they could care less about the fact that Mitch was living his dream. That was the first time Mitch got seriously pissed at him, and he went full-on defensive about how supportive his family is about his hockey ambitions and how things aren’t always as black and white as they appear. Auston was taken aback by Mitch’s reaction, and since then, he’s learned never to make insensitive comments like that again (or anything too personal about his parents).

 

“What’d you guys do at the cottage?” A cottage that was so remote that Mitch basically cut himself off from the rest of civilization when he left. There were no snaps, no texts, no insta updates; just complete silence. Auston is not salty about that at all.

 

“Chilled in the water mostly,” Mitch says, and the light dims from his smile like a switch has been flipped. He reaches out to touch the still-healing cut near Auston’s hairline, which is most definitely not receding (fuck off Naz). The touch sends a shiver down Auston’s spine. He’s hyperaware of the way Mitch’s fingers trace the edge of the stitches, and he sucks in a breath when Mitch leans in to get a better look. Auston can see his eyes so clearly, the way his lashes frame the beautiful blue that’s so bright and clear, like the shallow depths of the sea. It takes Auston right back to that day, to that memory. “Nothing exciting like what you were up to apparently,” Mitch continues, his tone heavy with meaning, as he pulls his hand away.

 

“That’s why you should’ve came with us,” Auston says, only half-joking.

 

“Maybe I will next time,” Mitch says. Auston’s eyes go wide, surprised at his response. “Since you can’t remember how to swim when you’re left alone.”

 

“Hey, I can swim just fine,” Auston protests, and it’s true. He may have grown up in the dessert, but he spent a lot of his summers in the pool because that was the best way to cool down. He’s a damn good swimmer and he tells Mitch just that.

 

“I don’t know about that,” Mitch says, and he reaches out to touch Auston’s cut once more but he pulls away suddenly. “I’ll give you some lessons next time we have a day off.”

 

Auston rolls his eyes and ignores that last comment. “You here to play some Fortnite or are you here to mock me?”

 

“Who says I can’t do both?” Mitch asks cheerfully with that Cheshire grin. They make his eyes look even bluer than usual, and Auston kind of just, stares, for a moment. “Time to beat Brownie’s ass and show him who’s boss.”

 

Auston laughs and they settle in for the night on his couch. He only gets distracted by Mitch and his eyes and, well, his general presence, a few times, but that’s pretty much their new normal so he takes that as a win.

 

*

 

Babs scratches him their first game back, which no one is happy about, especially Auston. He feels perfectly fine. He’s got no dizziness, his head doesn’t hurt, and his cut is healing well, but they don’t want to risk it with playoffs just around the corner and the team comfortably in a playoff spot. Still, Auston is so fucking tired of missing games because he’s injured; he definitely doesn’t want to miss any when he’s not even hurt. He wants to fucking _play_.

 

“Tough luck kid,” Babs says, slapping his hand down on Auston’s shoulder and giving him a firm shake. “Not my call. Maybe next time, we can strap you to the boat so we don’t have to worry about you falling in again.”

 

Auston is pretty sure that’s a joke so he laughs, but he also books it from Babs’ office as soon as it’s polite to do so, just in case it’s not. (It’s hard to tell sometimes.)

 

“Sucks bro,” Naz says when Auston steps into the locker room before the game so they must’ve heard the news. Willy gives him a hug when he sees him and everyone checks in on him to make sure he’s not broken (which he appreciates, but he’s _fine_ ), and they look relieved when he tells them that the team is just being overly cautious. They get back to their usual pregame routine after that, and he goes to sit in his stall. There’s something comforting with being in the room with the guys, even if he’s not playing.

 

Patty comes by to say “hi”. He claps a hand gently on his back and smiles warmly at him. “The kids were worried about you. You’re going to have to come by and show them you’re still alive, since they don’t seem to believe me.”

 

Auston flushes with guilt and he nods his head. “For sure. I’ll even spot them a few goals.”

 

Mitch snorts all the way over on the other side of Johnny. “As if they don’t own your ass even when you _don’t_ give them some freebies.” Auston throws a roll of tape at him, which makes Mitch laugh, and… that’s nice. It feels normal. He prefers this over the first couple of times he got hurt and everyone was practically walking on eggshells around him.

 

“I’ll tell them to take it easy on you,” Patty says, grinning widely before he walks back to his stall to finish getting ready. Auston rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, and he turns to chat with Johnny for a while before he has to head up to the press box. He hates being up there, hates having to watch the game from afar instead of at ice level.

 

The team plays well without him, a little chippy like all games are against a team that’s at the bottom of the standings, like they’ve got something to prove. From up high, it’s even easier to spot Mitch on the ice, the way he weaves in and out of traffic with the puck seemingly tied to his stick with a string, and it’s too easy to get drawn in by that, the way he skates so beautifully. Sometimes, when Auston thinks he can read Mitch’s next play, he does something else that Auston didn’t even anticipate. It blows Auston’s mind sometimes, just how skilled Mitch is, and how much smarter he is than everyone else on the ice, like he’s playing chess while everyone’s still playing checkers. Johnny and him feed off of each other beautifully.

 

Auston can see the play happening when Hyms digs the puck out from the corners and passes it to a waiting Johnny, who quickly moves the puck up to Mitch. He takes it in full stride, skates down nearly the full length of the rink, and it’s a one-on-two with Johnny racing behind to catch up, but just like everyone else that’s watching, all attention is on Mitch who dekes forehand-backhand, and Auston thinks Mitch is going to get a shot on net, but of course, he doesn’t take it. Auston doesn’t know why he thought he would, not when Johnny is right there, and Mitch whips the puck behind him and it’s almost too easy for Johnny to snap the puck home with the goalie completely out of position. Auston nearly jumps out of his seat with the fans that scream like it’s a home game.

 

Mitch skates full speed to jump into Johnny’s arms, always as excited as if he scored himself. It doesn’t matter whose goal it is, whether or not he gets a point out of it; Mitch always looks delighted just to be able to share the ice with them. It’s easy to see why the fans love him, the way Mitch plays the game like he’s living his dream to the fullest. It makes it hard for Auston to take his eyes off of him.

 

*

 

Auston misses three more games before he’s allowed to play again. (On the ice anyway, since he got owned by the Marleau kids in mini-stick hockey when him and Mitch went over for dinner the other night, but Auston is absolutely not counting that.) By then, Auston feels like he’s ready to jump out of his skin, that’s how restless and excited he is to play again. Mitch laughs at him, but his smile practically splits his face when Auston tells him that he’s going to be back in the lineup, so he knows Mitch is just as excited as he is and he doesn’t think he’s going overboard when he does a little fist-pump when no one is looking.

 

He goes through his normal pregame routine with an extra bounce in his step, and he can tell the guys are happy for him too with the way they jostle him when they walk past. He’s too happy to even be bothered when Naz tries to give him a noogie, and he pushes him away easily with a laugh because Auston’s not a runt like Mitch.

 

When it’s time to head out onto the ice, he can’t help the grin when he sees Mitch waiting for him so that they can do their usual pregame dab. He reaches out to grab Mitch’s gloved hand, but instead of the usual loose grip, Mitch tugs him in and presses their foreheads together. Their hands are clasped together and pressed against Auston’s chest, right over his heart. Mitch holds on like that for a moment, his eyes closed, and he’s close. So, _so_ close, that Auston feels his face go warm as he stares. It feels like there’s no one else around them as the moment lingers, like the world has shrunk down to just the two of them, and all Auston can focus on is the sound of Mitch’s breathing.

 

Auston snaps out of it when Mitch pulls back. His usual grin is softer around the edges, and it takes Auston a second before he starts moving again. He doesn’t know why he does it, but he looks back once, and just like always, Mitch is right behind him.

 

*

 

It becomes their new pregame routine. Auston’s not really sure what sparked the sudden change, but Mitch has got loads of superstitious crap going on (not that Auston can talk, glass houses and all) so Auston’s doesn’t read too much into it and follows his lead. It’s certainly not hurting the team anyway, and they go on a six-game win streak that puts Babs in a good enough mood to give them the day off before they have to head out on the road. Auston’s got big plans to sleep-in and do absolutely nothing, except maybe some Fortnite, but Mitch catches up with him in the parking lot. He bumps their shoulders companionably with that grin of his, and because he’s got no regard for personal space, he’s basically leaning on Auston as they walk.

 

“So tomorrow, my place after lunch,” Mitch says, like they’re continuing a conversation that Auston wasn’t privy to.

 

“I was going to sleep in,” Auston says.

 

“So? Come after you wake up,” Mitch says easily. “And bring your swim shorts.”

 

Auston stops so abruptly that Mitch loses his balance and nearly faceplants onto the cement, but he manages to catch himself at the last second. Auston didn’t even think to reach out and catch him. “Why?” Auston asks, suspicious of Mitch’s intensions. It’s not that they’ve never chilled in the pool in Mitch’s building before, but this seems… deliberate.

 

Mitch, of course, smiles innocently, which makes Auston even more suspicious. “I thought it’d be nice to relax in the pool on our day off.”

 

Auston rolls his eyes. “I can _swim_. It was just a freak accident.” Trust Mitch to actually be serious about testing Auston.

 

“Humour me then,” Mitch insists, and Auston wants to say no, just on principle, but it’s kind of hard to do when Mitch is looking at him like that, his eyes soft and almost pleading. It’d be like telling a puppy no, and Auston is nothing if not a sucker for it (puppies and Mitch apparently).

 

“Fine,” Auston says begrudgingly, “but you’re buying me dinner after.” He tries to be grumpy about it, but it’s hard to keep up the façade when Mitch is beaming at him, and he’d do pretty much anything to keep Mitch smiling like that.

 

*

 

The pool is empty when Auston gets to Mitch’s place. Mitch does a little cheer before he takes off his shirt and drops it onto the bench along with their towels. He takes a few steps towards the edge of the pool, glancing back at Auston while he takes his time with his shirt. He folds it neatly because he’s like, a proper adult and shit. Not like he’s stalling or anything.

 

A grin forms on Mitch’s face, and without saying anything, he belly-flops into the pool. Not even like a dive gone wrong. He just… tips himself over and goes face-first into the water like that kid from that viral video Mitch sent him earlier in the summer. The laughter bursts out of him and Mitch gives him a dorky grin when he surfaces.

 

It relaxes something inside of Auston, like a knot being unraveled. He can look down and see Mitch treading water easily, his feet moving slowly like it takes no effort at all to keep him afloat. He looks, he looks fine.

 

Auston takes a careful step closer to the edge and dips his toes into the water. It’s cold.

 

“You good?”

 

Auston’s head snaps up at the sound of Mitch’s voice, completely unaware that he was caught in a trance, just staring at the water. When Auston’s eyes meet Mitch’s, he’s surprised to see the usual teasing grin and mirth-filled eyes replaced with a patient smile as he waits for Auston to join him in the water. His hands are moving rhythmically in the water and it’s barely creating any ripples on the surface. Mitch looks completely peaceful and content in the water.

 

“Aus?”

 

“Yeah,” Auston says finally, his throat suddenly feeling too dry and parched. “Yeah, I’m good.”

 

It’s fine. It’s just the pool. Auston can see the bottom and everything. He sticks his foot in the water again. It’s still cold, but the water is calm, and he knows what to expect. This isn’t the sea where the current can pull him in without warning. He’s fine. Auston closes his eyes and jumps in.

 

He can’t touch the ground.

 

Auston kicks his legs out, but that doesn’t stop him from sinking. He’s sinking, and there’s nothing to hold onto. He gasps for air, but he can’t breathe. All he can do is suck in gulps and gulps of water until everything burns, until everything _hurts_ , and he can’t see anything in front of him. There’s nothing. It’s dark and he can’t see anything and he’s still sinking.

 

A strong pair of arms wrap around him and Auston gasps when the air suddenly comes easily and he coughs the water out of his lungs. He clings desperately onto whatever he can hold onto, like it’s his lifeline. His heart is pounding in his chest.

 

“Fuck Aus, I’m _so_ sorry, are you okay?” Mitch asks frantically. His hand is on Auston’s face, his eyes searching like he’s looking for an injury. His touch is gentle as his fingers trace over his features, and it helps calm his racing heart until he feels more grounded. It’s enough to make Auston loosen his bruising hold on Mitch, except Mitch is the one not letting go, and he helps him up onto the edge of the pool before hopping up next to him. He looks worried.

 

Auston runs a shaky hand through his hair. The embarrassment hits him when he realizes how pathetic he was, freaking out like that just because he swallowed a bit of pool water, and he tries to laugh it off. “Guess I’m still a little freaked out,” Auston says, going for lighthearted, except he sounds exactly how he feels. He tries to smile at Mitch instead, to reassure him that he _is_ fine, but everything feels tight and unnatural and he doesn’t know why he’s trying so hard to fake it in front of the one person that almost always sees through his lies.

 

Mitch’s eyes are so blue when he leans in. He curls his hand around the back of Auston’s neck and squeezes hard, like he’s trying to draw all the tension out of him. It helps calm Auston’s nerves, but it doesn’t stop Mitch from furrowing his brows and he looks too damn sad and upset that Auston feels like he should do something about it, maybe apologize for thinking he’s got his shit together, but he doesn’t get a chance to when Mitch tugs him in gently and presses their foreheads together.

 

It’s like their pregame routine, except not really, because there’s no barrier between them, and all Auston can feel is Mitch’s warm skin against his. It’s a lot more intimate, and it makes Auston feel warm and safe inside, a feeling so familiar that it’s like a memory from not so long ago.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Mitch says, and it almost sounds like a promise when he adds, “I’ve always got you.”

 

A silvery-blue tail cutting through the water flashes in Auston’s minds, and that sensation comes back to him like an echo of what he feels now, the cold touch against his forehead that somehow warmed him up from inside out. It doesn’t make any sense, but when Auston looks into Mitch’s eyes, the blue as beautiful as a gem from the sea, it feels like that’s the _only_ thing that makes sense.

 

*

 

Mitch orders them Chipotle with all of Auston’s favourite fixings that definitely aren’t on their approved diet plan, but Auston figures he’s allowed to cheat when he just went through a semi-traumatic event so he’s definitely not going to complain. Especially when it’s so much easier to avoid Mitch’s concerned, guilty looks when he’s too busy stuffing his face with burritos and nachos and beer.

 

Of course, the plan only works for so long, and then Mitch is loudly clearing his throat in the most unsubtle way ever, like he’s actually trying to hack something out of his throat. Auston thinks briefly about making a Heimlich joke and chirping him for it, except he knows that Mitch will basically tear himself up over this if they don’t talk even though none of this is on him.

 

“I’m fine,” Auston says, just to put it out there, because it’s true and he’s mostly just embarrassed with the way he completely lost his survival instincts in a pool that barely even meets regulation size for lane swimming. “You don’t have to feel bad.” Auston means it too, because even though it was Mitch’s idea, Auston was the one dumb enough not to listen to any of his body’s warning bells about maybe, just _maybe_ , he’s still a little shaken up by what happened.

 

“I’m sorry. It was selfish. I shouldn’t have pushed,” Mitch says. His lips are pursed together, almost like a pout, except this isn’t Mitch whining about not getting to pick the movie on the road. Mitch looks genuinely upset, his eyes avoiding Auston’s, and he’s barely touched his nachos even though he normally inhales them the second they’re in front of him.

 

“You didn’t,” Auston assures him. “I was being stubborn. Not your fault I’m an idiot.”

 

Mitch opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, and he looks small and miserable, all hunched over in the chair across from Auston. Auston hates it when Mitch gets like this. It reminds him of the time Mitch felt like shit about his game and got bumped down to the fourth line. No one wants to relive those days again, so Auston gets up to give him a hug because that usually perks Mitch up. It ends up being awkward and uncomfortable because Mitch is still sitting so his face ends up smushed against Auston’s side, but Mitch clings on anyway because he’s nothing if not a sucker for physical affection. Auston was never much of a hugger until Mitch came along anyway.

 

“Maybe you can give me a few tips on how to get comfortable in the water again,” Auston says when the silence between them has dragged on long enough. If it were up to him, he’d just avoid it like the plague, but he can tell this is important to Mitch and that makes it worth giving another shot.

 

Auston knows he said the right thing because it gets a small smile on Mitch’s face when he pulls back, just a little quirk at the corners of his mouth, but it’s enough to make something flutter in Auston’s stomach.

 

*

 

Auston dreams about those blue eyes again with the silvery-blue tail that’s stunningly beautiful in the water. He can clearly see Mitch’s face, except his normally slim face has been drawn even more tight, and his ears are fanned out into delicate-looking fins. He’s still the same captivating Mitch that Auston knows, the same person that he can’t take his eyes off of even if he tried.

 

*

 

It becomes part of their post-practice routine. Auston will follow Mitch back to his place and they’ll go for a dip in his pool. Sometimes, they’ll just float in the water and talk about nothing at all. Mitch will float on his back near Auston, who sticks close to the wall in the shallow end where his feet will touch the ground, and Mitch will tell him what he was up to like they don’t spend practically every waking moment together. It’s nice though, because Mitch turns even the most mundane story into something exciting, like it’s an experience he’ll remember forever. Even something as normal as running into a new fan who tells Mitch that he’s her favourite player in the world, but Mitch always sounds amazed by it, like it doesn’t happen regularly for them. He remembers details that Auston never would, like he’s not going to take for granted one second of what they’ve achieved. 

 

Auston really loves that about him.

 

Sometimes, they don’t talk at all, and Auston basks in the silence and calm that settles over them. It’s never uncomfortable and Auston feels the tension gradually ease while they’re doing this, until he feels almost boneless in the water. It helps that Mitch always looks so peaceful, just staring up at the ceiling with the quiet surrounding them. It’s captivating, the way he looks in the water. Auston can’t take his eyes off of him.

 

They’ve been at it for a while when Mitch finally starts to push Auston to try and put his face into the water. He explains that it’ll help him get used to the feeling when he starts swimming again, but Auston doesn’t really understand why he can’t just master the backstroke and call it a day. Mitch makes a sad face when he says that though, which is fucking dirty pool, but it gets Auston agreeing because he knows where Mitch is coming from.

 

“It’ll be fine,” Mitch assures him. “I’ll be holding onto you so you can come up whenever you feel uncomfortable.” Mitch guides Auston to grab onto Mitch’s forearms while he does the same. It’s no different than Auston holding onto the edge of the pool like a lifeline, but it feels different with Mitch. His touch feels a lot more grounding and supportive and, well, _safe_.

 

“Okay, whenever you’re ready,” Mitch says with an encouraging smile, and it’s kind of a lot, the way Mitch is looking at him right now, his expression soft and gentle. It makes Auston hyperaware of how close they are, in more ways than one, and how little it’d take to bridge that gap between them. It would be the easiest thing in the world for Auston to lean in and kiss Mitch. His lips are so close, and Auston doesn’t think he’s imagining it, the way Mitch’s eyes keep looking down at his mouth when they’re this close.

 

Auston quickly shoves his head underwater to stop himself from doing something completely stupid. He lasts maybe three seconds, but it feels like hours by the time he resurfaces. He doesn’t choke on water and he doesn’t freak out (that much) so he calls it a win. He’s feeling pretty good about himself, and he doesn’t even realize how much closer Mitch has gotten until he opens his eyes and all he sees is this gorgeous blue that completely draws him in.

 

Mitch looks so damn proud of him, like that night he scored four goals in his debut and Mitch pounced on him in the locker room and told him how amazing he was. This seems minor in comparison, but at the same time, it feels even bigger.

 

“That was awesome!” Mitch’s grin is blinding, the excitement visible all over his face. “Progress!” He takes a hand off of Auston’s arm and lifts it up for a fist-bump, except they’re really close, and all Auston can think about is the feel of Mitch’s knuckles brushing against his skin.

 

Auston pounds it anyway, and it’s ridiculous how happy he feels, but it’s hard not to be when Mitch’s excitement is so infectious. It makes him feel brave enough to lean forward and press their foreheads together, just like the first time Mitch did it. Mitch freezes for a moment like he didn’t expect it, his grip tightening on Auston’s arm, but a second later, Mitch relaxes and leans into him. Auston let’s go of the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding onto.

 

“Thanks,” Auston says, his voice barely above a whisper. The moment between them feels so fragile. Auston doesn’t want to do anything to break it. He doesn’t want to pull away from Mitch, not yet.

 

Mitch doesn’t say anything in response, but he’s smiling and the moment lingers.

 

*

 

Auston makes plans to go out for lunch with Freddie and Mo after practice. They suggest a sushi place and Auston tries not to laugh at the choice. He agrees easily enough and they drive there together in Freddie’s car. The conversation is light and they avoid hockey-talk as much as they can (even if some of it still bleeds through).

 

They get seated at a discreet enough table and the waiter does a good job at not reacting when they order more than half the menu since they’re starving hockey players. Auston feels relaxed and comfortable, the way he always is around the guys. Auston clears his throat when there’s a gap in conversation, and they must’ve expected this because both of them look on encouragingly as they wait for Auston to speak.

 

“I kind of wanted to ask you guys about that day,” Auston starts saying, and from the way he gets mirroring surprised looks, that’s not what they expected. “Just trying to put all the pieces together.”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Mo says, recovering quickly. Freddie mostly looks confused, staring back at Auston with furrowed brows, but Auston pushes forward. “What did you want to know?”

 

Auston fiddles with the napkin and resettles the chopsticks he knocked over. He’s not fidgety by nature, but he’s not sure how to ask what he really wants to figure out. It seems strange to insist that he’s sure he saw Mitch when it doesn’t make sense for him to have been there, but Auston knows what he saw, and he might not understand but he’s sure of it.

 

Except when he tries to put all of that into words, nothing comes out. He doesn’t know why he hesitates, but Freddie and Mo look back at him patiently, like they don’t mind waiting him out, and in the end, Auston can’t bring himself to saying anything at all. Something about a cat in a box, maybe.

 

“You know what, forget about it. If it’s important, it’ll come back to me,” Auston says. He brushes Mo off when he opens his mouth to speak, just in case he wants to protest. If they didn’t see anything the first time, nothing’s going to change no matter how many times he asks.

 

Thankfully, Freddie doesn’t push and he jabs Mo with an elbow when it looks like he might want to. Mo gives up after a while, rubbing his side, and the conversation goes back to more comfortable topics.

 

*

 

Mitch gets hit by a shot that he blocks with his foot in the game against Buffalo. Everyone holds their breath until he gets back up and shakes it off as he skates to the bench. Auston tries not to get too worked up about it but Babs continues to roll through the lines like they’re not up by two goals anyway. Auston bumps his shoulder when he’s back on the bench after a shift and asks, “You good?”

 

Mitch nods his head, and Auston feels caught, staring at Mitch’s mouth as he sucks in huge gulps of air to catch his breath. “Just a stinger. Nothing an ice pack won’t fix later,” he says, smiling now. “You should worry about our bet. I’m officially up by one after the last goal.”

 

Auston rolls his eyes. “I missed four games,” he says, not sulky in the least about it or the fact that Mitch is currently up by one in their bet for who gets the most points this season (loser buys dinner – Auston is _not_ losing to Mitch again, even if he had a nice total last year).

 

“Tough luck,” Mitch says, but he’s gentle about it when he bumps Auston’s shoulder. “A point is a point is a point.”

 

Auston rolls his eyes, _again_ , and if he skates a bit harder and shoots the puck a little more on his next shift, well, he’s just being a good team player.

 

*

 

They win the game and it’s awesome, even if Auston doesn’t get a point. He follows Mitch home afterwards though, and he pushes him down onto the couch while he goes to grab an icepack from the freezer. Most of the time, Mitch gets too lazy after games to ice the bumps and bruises, and if someone doesn’t remind him, he’ll completely forego it and _Auston_ will be the one to suffer the consequences the next day when Mitch whines about being sore.

 

Mitch is stretched out on the couch with the sports highlights on in the background when Auston returns with the icepack. He’s got his legs up on the couch while he’s on his phone, but he puts it down on his chest when he sees Auston. “You’re seriously the best best-friend,” Mitch says, smiling brightly at him, and Auston tries really hard to ignore the way his face goes warm from such a ridiculous comment (seriously, they aren’t _five_ , Auston shouldn’t be so happy to hear Mitch refer to him like that).

 

Mitch lifts his legs up for Auston to sit down before resettling them back onto Auston’s lap. Auston wraps a small towel around the icepack and holds it gently against Mitch’s foot where Auston can see the beginnings of a bruise. He sets a timer on his phone and makes himself comfortable. He rests his hand on Mitch’s ankle as he watches Malkin pull off an unreal lacrosse move to score on New York (that’s the kind of play goalies have nightmares about). He doesn’t realize he’s been rubbing circles over the knob of the bone until he hears Mitch audibly suck in a breath.

 

Auston looks over and Mitch is staring down at his phone, but the tops of his cheeks are flushed pink. It reminds Auston of the first time they did this, except that started with Mitch jabbing his foot at Auston until he got sick of it and reached over to drag them onto his lap to get him to stop (and maybe tickle him in revenge). He nearly got a broken nose for his efforts when his fingers brushed over Mitch’s ankles because he’s too damn ticklish. Auston has been careful since.

 

“Still good?” Auston asks. He feels like a broken record but Mitch doesn’t call him out on it. He just smiles warmly at Auston and says, “I’m good.”

 

Auston looks down at his hand that’s resting right over Mitch’s ankles right now, his legs stretched across Auston’s lap with no scales and no fins and definitely don’t look like they belong to the sea.

 

*

 

They get an extra day in Vancouver, and Auston has no idea how Mitch has managed to wrangle some of the guys into going to Stanley Park and walking along the Seawall. They may as well walk around with their jerseys on, with how much they’re going to stand out in such a public place, but when Auston complains to Willy, he just gets an unimpressed look in return.

 

“Oh, so you’re telling me _you’d_ be able to say no to Mitchy, like you weren’t the first person to agree to begin with?” Willy snorts, and he laughs outright when Auston shoves him in response.

 

“Fuck off,” Auston says. _He_ might not be strong enough, but he was hoping everyone else would be so that Auston wouldn’t have to be the one to make Mitch all sad and shit when things don’t go his way. Auston’s not a monster, okay? He was just kind of hoping some of his teammates were. He should’ve known better than to expect the guys to say no to Mitch. It’s worse than kicking puppies, the face Mitch makes afterwards to guilt them.

 

“Cheer up bro,” Willy says, still laughing at him. “Look how much fun Mitchy is having!”

 

He’s not wrong. Mitch is absolutely _beaming_. He’s always so happy whenever they’re by the water, like he comes alive when it’s near. He’s smiling a lot and gesturing wildly to Brownie and Hyms just a few steps ahead of them. Brownie seems to be rolling his eyes a lot while Hyms looks patient and indulgent, but they’re both smiling and laughing with Mitch. It’d be hard not to. His energy is always so infectious. It doesn’t matter if they’re on the ice, in the room, or away from the rink. It’s hard not to get sucked in by Mitch, like this gravitational pull with him at the center of it.

 

“Your feelings are showing,” Willy says, bumping his shoulder companionably. His smile is less teasing though, and Auston’s not sure he likes this any better. “It’d be cute if this hasn’t been going on forever.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Auston says, but judging by the look he gets in return, Willy doesn’t believe a word of it.

 

“You keep telling yourself that,” Willy says, and thankfully, proceeds to chirp him on the new car he got last summer instead. He keeps his head down and tries not to make eye contact with the people that do a double-take when they see him while he keeps Willy entertained with his tastes in cars (like he’s any better).

 

*

 

Everyone drifts off after a while, except Mitch doesn’t want to leave yet, so that means Auston gets to keep him company. The energy he had earlier has calmed down now and they grab food from a couple of the food stands before they take it back onto the beach to eat. It’s a bit colder than Auston is comfortable with, but Mitch looks really happy, and he’d never ditch him when everyone else already has. Plus, Auston would be lying if he said he didn’t like having Mitch to himself. The smell of the sea and the sound of the waves _is_ pretty relaxing.

 

“You really like the water,” Auston says after they’ve both demolished their snacks and ice cream.

 

Mitch tilts his head towards him and smiles. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

 

“Sure, when it’s not trying to kill you,” Auston snorts.

 

Mitch laughs and he presses up against Auston’s side. He feels nice and warm even through the layers they’re wearing, and Auston tries not to be too obvious when he shuffles closer to get more of it.

 

“It keeps me calm when I’m around it,” Mitch continues, and he looks straight ahead towards the water. There’s almost this faraway look in his eyes, like he’s here, but not actually, and something about it unsettles Auston and he really doesn’t like it. He nudges Mitch’s shoulder, to bring him back from wherever he went, and it’s a relief to see him smiling again.

 

“You’re not taking those trade rumours too seriously, are you?” Auston asks, half joking, but also not really.

 

Mitch laughs though, and he shakes his head. “Naw, I love Toronto too much.” Mitch stretches his legs out in front of him and runs his fingers through the sand. “It would be nice to have both though.”

 

“Build a summer home on the beach,” Auston says. “I’ll come visit.”

 

Mitch is still smiling, but it looks sad now. “Maybe one day.” Auston wants to bring back a real smile, except Mitch suddenly stands up and dusts his jeans off. “Wanna grab some real food now?” The smile still isn’t quite where Auston wants it to be, but if Mitch doesn’t want to talk about it, Auston’s not going to push.

 

“Sure. You’re paying.”

 

Mitch rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling when he says, “Fine. Guess it’s the least I can do since you were a good sport about today.”

 

Before they go though, Mitch puts his arm around his waist and gets Auston to take a selfie with his phone since he’s got the longer reach (Auston gets pinched for making a “tiny” joke). It’s a nice picture with the water behind them and just enough sun peeking through to give an illusion of a beautiful fair-weathered day. Mitch immediately demands Auston send it to him so that Mitch can post it in the group chat and Auston tries not to think about how much this feels like a date.

 

*

 

The media must get tired of writing about the Leafs winning all the time or something because they start harping on Auston’s and Mitch’s contracts instead. It’s not like the questions completely went away when the season started and neither of them had signed yet, but the focus was usually on the game with maybe a handful of questions here and there that had them both insisting they were leaving it in their agents’ hands. Now though, they’re like vultures going after a story that doesn’t even exist. They’re not settling for the “it’s out of our hands” responses anymore, and Auston’s kind of tired of answering them.

 

The reality is, Auston _has_ a verbal agreement in place. All that’s left for them to do is put pen to paper, likely when the season is over, since he doesn’t really want his contract to take away from the team’s accomplishments so far.

 

They’re watching some rom-com together on Auston’s bed, but he keeps getting distracted as the questions get replayed in his head, the idea that the three of them might not all be on the same page (at least Willy’s signed for a long time, so _those_ hot takes can kindly go fuck off). He turns to see Mitch on his other side, sprawled out comfortably with a couple pillows propped up behind him, and he’s got a dorky smile on his face as he watches whatever’s happening on the screen.

 

Mitch let’s out a delighted laugh, his eyes crinkling around the edges, and he looks loose and happy, practically melting back into the bed. It’s easy to get caught up in the way Mitch looks right now, and when he turns his head towards Auston, his big smile brightens up his face, like there’s this light shining down on him. He quirks a brow up questioningly at him when Auston doesn’t say anything, and Auston knows he’s not supposed to, it’s like an unwritten rule that they all follow even If Auston doesn’t always understand it, but he asks anyway, “How are your contract talks going?”

 

Mitch rolls over onto his side and tucks his hands under his pillow. Auston does the same and mirrors his position so that they’re fully facing one another.

 

“They’re going fine,” Mitch says. The smile slips from his face and it’s kind of hard to read what he’s thinking right now. It’s a little unnerving to see, when Mitch is usually so expressive with his emotions. “How are yours?”

 

“Pretty much ready to sign,” Auston explains.

 

Mitch’s eyes light up, and he looks genuinely happy for Auston when he says, “That’s awesome! How long?”

 

“Eight years,” Auston says, and he feels a little giddy himself at the thought of staying in Toronto for a really long time. His chest feels warm with pleasure when he thinks about playing together with the team, with _Mitch_ , for the next several years. “Are you going for the max?”

 

Mitch is still smiling, but the warmth doesn’t reach his eyes anymore, and something uneasy twists in Auston’s stomach. “I’m thinking of going for three.”

 

Auston has to swallow the lump that suddenly forms in his throat and asks, “Is the team, are they like… are _you_ chancing it?” Auston would totally understand if Mitch wants to take a bet on himself, and the team wants to buy more time. He doesn’t like it, but that’s business. He totally gets it. Or at least, that’s what Auston keeps telling himself. 

 

“Something like that,” Mitch says, his voice trailing off. “Just… don’t think a long-term contract is what I want right now.”

 

Except Mitch doesn’t say it like he means it. He says it like when he tried to brush off everyone’s concerns about his scoring, how he didn’t mind being dropped onto the fourth line to play with Marty. He says it like it’s the last thing he wants, like he’s failed. He doesn’t look happy, and Auston really, _really_ hates it when this happens, like a switch has been flipped and the lights are dimmed. He wants to do something to cheer Mitch up, to make him smile all the way up to his eyes again.

 

“It’s funny,” Mitch continues, “I always thought my dream was just to like, make it to the big league and win the Cup, and it doesn’t matter where and how I get there.” Mitch looks up to meet Auston’s eyes, and there’s something about the expression on his face, how it’s suddenly blown wide open and is entirely too vulnerable and trusting; Auston doesn’t know what to do with the feelings that stir inside of him, the affection that suddenly rises to the surface. “But now, I can’t imagine winning the Cup anywhere except in Toronto. When I picture winning the Cup, I see us lifting it together.”

 

Mitch says it so softly, this casual little confession on a quiet night before a game. It’s like he doesn’t know what kind effect those words will have on Auston, like he hasn’t been thinking about the same thing for a long time, and before he really thinks it through, Auston leans in to kiss Mitch. It doesn’t last long, a brief touch that’s over as quickly as it happens, and then Auston’s pulling back. Mitch’s eyes are wide, and Auston can’t decide if that was the right move or not when Mitch is the one leaning in this time to kiss him again. There’s more intent now as Mitch moves closer to him and Auston forgets all about his doubts and uncertainties because Mitch is _kissing_ him. And it’s a really, really good kiss. It’s not perfect, the way most first kisses aren’t, but Auston wants to catalogue every move and sound Mitch makes anyway, the way he makes Auston’s toes curl with a simple touch.

 

Mitch places one hand on Auston’s face as he kisses him, his lips parting against Auston’s as they deepen it. They keep kissing and kissing, not pulling apart for even a second as they try to move as close to each other as possible, until there’s no space left between them and Auston can no longer tell where he starts and where Mitch ends. Auston curls his hand over Mitch’s hip, squeezing it hard, like that can be his anchor as he feels like soaring from how good this feels.

 

Except suddenly, it’s like the ground opens up under him, and Mitch pulls back abruptly. His eyes are wide and panicked, and Auston crashes right back down to reality.

 

“I’m sorry,” Mitch says quickly and he pulls back even further to put more space between them. Auston feels cold with dread as Mitch looks back at him with that terrified expression on his face, and it makes Auston sick.

 

“No, fuck, _I’m_ sorry. I started it,” Auston says, and he looks away from Mitch because he can’t meet his eyes right now. He pulls back as far away as he can, except Mitch’s hand shoots forward to grab onto his arm.

 

“I want to,” Mitch says quickly, and Auston’s head snaps back up. Mitch looks conflicted now, chewing on his lip like he normally does with his mouthguard, and Auston wants to reach up to tug his lip free. He keeps his hands to himself though. “It’s just… I don’t think we should.”

 

Auston wants to ask why, if they both want the same thing, except Mitch pastes on a fake smile for him and asks if he wants to start the movie over again, and Auston’s not pathetic enough to get rejected twice in one night so he agrees.

 

*

 

Auston still has those dreams sometimes, but hockey keeps him busy, and the team continues to be amazing, even though Auston’s on a cold streak right now. The team is winning so that’s the only thing that matters, and Auston focuses on all the assists he’s racking up instead of the fact that he can’t seem to score on or off the ice. Well, not scoring with the one person he wants the most anyway, and Auston would laugh at the symmetry of it all, the way he can’t have Mitch on or off the ice, if it didn’t make him feel so pathetic.

 

It’s fine though. He gets Willy and Patty on the ice, who are both some of the best guys on the team to play with, and he still gets to monopolize Mitch’s time off the ice in whatever capacity he wants to share with Auston. They still have their lessons, and Auston reaches a point where he can actually swim the entire length of the pool with his face, mostly, in the water. It’s not where he was before, but he’s pretty pleased with how far he’s come in such a short time. Mitch even high-five’d him when he reached the end, his smile huge and happy and proud, and there was a moment where Auston thought Mitch wanted to kiss him again, but it came and went before Auston could do anything about it.

 

Auston tries really hard not to think about it.

 

They get a day off during their California trip. Auston’s debating between the pool, the beach, or chilling on a yacht with the boys when Mitch suddenly appears with a determined look on his face while Auston’s talking plans with Willy.

 

“What’s up?” Auston asks, because Mitch isn’t saying anything and his shoulders look tense.

 

“You’re coming with me,” Mitch says after a moment. “We’ve got plans.”

 

“We do?” Auston tries to remember if they talked about it before, but nothing comes to mind.

 

“Yup,” Mitch says. “It’s a surprise.” He tugs on Auston’s arm, and when he looks back to Willy, he’s winking at him and making kissy faces. Auston rolls his eyes, but he can’t deny the hopeful feeling that stirs inside of him.

 

The “surprise” ends up being a beautiful coastal drive in a red sports car that Mitch rented. At first, Auston teases Mitch for wanting to do such a touristy activity, but once they hit the road at a nice cruising speed, Auston admits that it is pretty chill. Conversation is never difficult with Mitch and the silences are rarely uncomfortable. It reminds Auston of their rookie season when they carpooled to the rink every day, except this time they get a pretty sick view instead of having to deal with angry Toronto drivers.

 

Auston puts his feet up on the dash and enjoys the ride.

 

“This is nice,” he says, smiling at Mitch when he looks over. “Guess your surprises aren’t always terrible.”

 

Mitch’s smile is tense and a little forced as he says, “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Mitch doesn’t elaborate and Auston doesn’t want to push. Mitch will talk when he’s ready to talk. They drive further and further away from the popular spots, and when Mitch finally decides to pull over, it’s at a site that looks like it hasn’t been used in a long time with no real walking path. That doesn’t seem to bother Mitch though and he grabs a backpack from the backseat before he gets out of the car.

 

Auston follows after him and asks, “Are we having a picnic or is this where you plan to leave my body?” He’s joking but Mitch barely cracks a smile. He gestures for Auston to follow him down towards the beach that’s not exactly made for tourists. The sand is coarse and rough, and it makes a crunching sound when Auston steps on it. This definitely isn’t California’s finest, but that doesn’t seem to bother Mitch as he drops his backpack onto the ground when they’re a few feet away from the water. He looks tense and uncomfortable, but when he lifts his head up and meets Auston’s eyes, there’s a determined look in them that reminds Auston of the way he is on the ice, like the Mitch he saw in his dreams.

 

“Mitchy?”

 

“I want to show you something,” Mitch says in a rush, his words practically tripping over one another. “It’s… you’ll understand when you see.”

 

Auston doesn’t really get it, but he nods anyway.

 

“Okay,” Mitch says. “Okay, here we go.” Except nothing happens for a while, like they’re caught in an awkward standstill, but then all of a sudden Mitch is pulling off his hoodie and t-shirt and stripping all the way down to nothing.

 

“What are you –“ Auston can’t finish that thought because Mitch is completely naked in front of him, and it’s not like they’re in the locker room or the showers messing around. Right now, all Auston can see is miles and miles of smooth, pale skin and lean muscle, and Auston tries really hard not to stare at Mitch’s ass when he turns around. He forces himself to look away.

 

When Auston darts a quick look back up at Mitch, he’s walking right towards the water with no hesitation in his steps, and before Auston can stop him, he jumps in head first once he’s deep enough. Auston yells his name, but Mitch doesn’t look back, and Auston feels the panic rise inside of him. He steps closer to the water and calls out to Mitch again, but there’s no answer.

 

Auston’s not proud of himself for hesitating, but he knows Mitch wouldn’t, so he steps out of his shoes quickly and he struggles to get his hoodie off so that he can get into the water and go after Mitch. By the time he gets it over his head, he hears a splash and when he looks back towards the water, he freezes at the sight before him, stunned and shocked by what he sees.

 

Auston takes a step back. And then another. And another. Until suddenly, all he feels is the uneven ground under his ass as he stares, like his dream has come to life, except that really _is_ Mitch out there with a silvery-blue tail that’s even more beautiful than Auston remembered. His face is paler under the California sun when his head pops up above the surface of the water, but his eyes are as blue and familiar as ever. His ears… they’re these thin, delicate-looking fins that pushes his longer hair back. He still looks every bit like the Mitch that Auston knows, except now it’s very clear that Auston didn’t really know the real Mitch at all.

 

His dream… they weren’t dreams after all. They were memories.

 

*

 

Auston doesn’t know how much time passes before Mitch steps back onto the beach, looking exactly the same as before, all smooth skin instead of thin scales. He dries himself off with a towel from his backpack, and by the time he’s dressed and sitting down next to Auston with more space between them than when they first met, Auston still doesn’t have the words to express what he’s thinking.

 

“You, you can ask me anything you want,” Mitch says, sounding nervous. “I know it’s a lot.”

 

Auston looks over and he sees Mitch’s arms wrapped around his legs (legs! Not a tail) and blurts out the first thing on his mind, “You’re a mermaid?”

 

Mitch lets out a startled laugh, like that wasn’t what he expected Auston to ask, but the smile on his face isn’t unkind when he says, “Something like that. We prefer merfolk, but yeah. You can call me that.”

 

“You – you, _how_?” Auston doesn’t know where to start asking. There are too many questions in his head, like a jumbled mess of words that he can’t untangle, and all that comes out is a sputtering mess of what, where, when, _how_?

 

Mitch is patient though, and he slowly explains everything from the beginning, like he’s giving a history lesson on his people that have lived in the sea for as long they have on land. Auston tries to process the fact that they can come and go as they please, that there could be more people like Mitch out there that he’s met and interacted with and never had a clue the kind of secret they had.

 

“Most of us don’t like to leave the water though,” Mitch explains. “The sea is our home, and that’s where we belong. It’ll call out to us when we’re away for too long.”

 

“But you, you’ve lived on land for like, most of your life?” Auston asks, interrupting Mitch in the middle of his explanation about how many merfolk can’t even bear to be on land for more than a few hours at a time.

 

“Since I was ten,” Mitch says, “but off and on long before that.”

 

“So why?” Auston asks, even if he can guess the answer.

 

“Hockey called out to me,” Mitch says, like it’s as simple and matter-of-fact as that, like how the sky is blue and water is wet. “I fell in love with it and this is where I want to be.”

 

“And it’s that easy?” Auston regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but thankfully Mitch doesn’t get pissed or upset at Auston for downplaying his determination. Instead, he shrugs it off, but his shoulders are tense and he’s not looking at Auston when he continues.

 

“You asked me before why my parents aren’t more supportive,” Mitch begins, and Auston winces at the carefully neutral tone Mitch is using, “but I think you can understand now why they’ve never attended a game or visited me in Toronto. For them, it’s not natural that I’m so attached to land, but they’re trying really hard to understand, and they’re giving me time to try because this is what I want.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Auston says, and he means it. “I shouldn’t have been so shitty about it before.”

 

“We’re good,” Mitch says, and he smiles at Auston warmly, like he’s trying to reassure him that he means it as well. “I have a few years left to prove to my parents that I made the right choice. And then, I can keep doing what I love.”

 

Something clicks into place for Auston, like another puzzle piece that fills the picture. “Is that why you’re only signing a three-year deal?”

 

Mitch stretches his legs out and pushes his toes into the sand as he leans forward with his hands on his knees. “I have a deal with my parents. If I don’t win the Cup by the time I’m twenty-five, I have to return to the sea and let go of my hockey dreams.”

 

That’s… that’s barely three years away. Their best hockey years are still not here yet.

 

Auston feels the rocks dig into his palms as he presses his hands down onto the sand, to stop himself from doing something stupid like grab onto Mitch like that’ll stop him from leaving in just a few short years. He can’t picture a Leafs lineup without Mitch standing beside him, making him laugh and sing-along to dumb classic rock songs on live TV, and dazzling fans and the team with his jaw-dropping moves on the ice. He can’t imagine not having Mitch in the room as their shining beacon of light, the one that always makes everyone laugh when the tension feels like choking them. The thought of not being around Mitch every day, even when they don’t have practice or games… it makes Auston’s chest hurt, like something reached inside of him and squeezes him with everything they’ve got.

 

“We’re going to win,” Auston says. “We’re going to win, and then you can stay a Leaf forever.” Auston’s going to do everything in his power to make this happen. They have time.

 

Mitch’s smile brightens and he lifts his fist up to bump with Auston’s. “Leafs forever.”

 

*

 

Auston doesn’t think to say it until they’re already halfway back to the car, and he puts a hand on Mitch’s arm to stop him for a second.

 

“That day… it _was_ you that saved me.” It’s not a question, but Auston feels something settle inside of him anyway when Mitch nods his head, that final piece of the puzzle slotting into place. “I thought I was going crazy.”

 

Mitch smiles sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck and says, “I was going to mess around with you guys, maybe splash you when you weren’t looking. Except the storm started coming in, and then I just wanted to make sure you guys were okay.”

 

“Thank you,” Auston says, and it’s not just for saving him, but also for trusting him with the truth about who he is. “Never got a chance to say it before.”

 

“Told you I’ve always got your back,” Mitch says. His smile is a bit crooked and goofy right now, his hair drying in all sorts of directions and it makes him look like a mess, but he’s still the best thing that Auston’s ever seen.

 

Auston thinks back to their rookie season, the way Mitch was always by his side like this pillar of support as he navigated the spotlight of Toronto, the way he stuck up for Auston on and off the ice when he struggled, and the love and affection he feels for him right now feels inevitable, like a long time coming.

 

Falling in love with his best friend, who also happens to belong to the sea… well, it’s not the worst thing Auston could’ve done.

 

*

 

Auston is determined to not let things change between them after what happened in California. He treats Mitch exactly the same at practice, and when it’s over, he drives to his place after he’s done with the media, just like he always does. Except this time when he knocks on the door, it’s not Mitch that answers it but a young boy with short, messy brown hair instead. He looks up at Auston with huge brown eyes and gasps dramatically, one hand over his mouth, and Auston tries not to laugh when he says, “You’re Auston Matthews!”

 

“I am,” he says, and before he can ask who he is, the boy is screaming for Mitch who comes running.

 

“Ollie, I told you not to answer the door without me,” Mitch says, and Ollie looks appropriately chastised for about a second before he goes, “But it’s Auston Matthews! Are you friends with him?

 

Auston’s definitely laughing now, and he crouches down so that he can talk to Ollie at eye-level. “Yes, I’m friends with Mitch. We play hockey together. Who are you?”

 

“I’m Oliver,” he says excitedly, and he’s practically vibrating out of his skin as he bounces on his feet. “I love the Leafs and you’re my favourite player!”

 

Auston tries not to feel too smug about that when he looks up at Mitch, except it must not work because Mitch rolls his eyes at him. “Nice to meet you buddy. How do you know Mitch?”

 

“I live downstairs. Mitch teaches me how to swim while Mommy and Daddy have ‘nap time’ because they don’t have enough energy to play with me all day.”

 

Mitch coughs awkwardly behind him and Auston has to hide a laugh at that thinly veiled excuse as he stands up again, patting Ollie gently on the head as he does so. “So that means we’re getting our lessons together?” Auston asks, and Ollie looks like he might burst with excitement while Mitch smiles awkwardly.

 

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t think you were coming over today so I said yes to Amy when she asked me to look after Ollie for a few hours,” Mitch says. He rubs the back of his neck, this nervous tic he picked up in the last couple of years, and Auston doesn’t bother calling him out on why he thought Auston wouldn’t come.

 

“Maybe Ollie and I can have a race later, to see who’s the better swimmer.”

 

“Yeah! Mitch says I can swim _really_ fast now,” Ollie says proudly. “I don’t even need a board anymore!” He grabs Auston’s hand, clearly excited now, and Mitch’s smile relaxes when Auston says, “Let’s go.”

 

*

 

Auston doesn’t think it’s really fair that he has to swim four times the laps that Ollie does in their race, but when he tries to protest, he gets told that since he’s “twice as tall” and “twice as strong”, that means he can swim at least four times as fast as someone’s Ollie’s size, and Auston doesn’t really know how he’s supposed to win against that kind of logic. Mitch laughs at him when he tries anyway, seemingly delighted at watching Auston lose an argument against a kid that barely reaches his hip, and he flips him off when Ollie’s not looking.

 

They start off on opposite sides of the pool and Auston gets the wall in case he needs it while Ollie gets arm floaties and Mitch watching him like a hawk. When Mitch yells at them to start, Auston tries to focus on his strokes and breathing the way Mitch showed him instead of the apprehension that sits heavily in the pit of his stomach.

 

One-two-breathe. One-two-breathe. One-two-breathe.

 

Auston counts every stroke and breath until that’s the only thing on his mind, and he repeats it again when he reaches the wall and goes the other direction.

 

One-two-breathe. One-two-breathe. One-two-breathe.

 

By the time Auston touches the wall for the fourth time, Ollie’s already sitting on the edge and yelling, “I win!”

 

“Go Ollie,” Mitch cheers, and gives Ollie an enthusiastic first-bump. “Better luck next time Aus.”

 

“I beat Auston Matthews! Wait ‘til I tell Jimmy!”

 

Auston laughs, and he lifts his hand up for a celebratory fist-bump as well. “Good job, bud,” he says, even if he is a little salty that he had to work against such a big handicap. He’s not going to be a sore loser though.

 

(Mitch laughs at him like he’s being one anyway.)

 

“Ollie’s the best and the fastest,” Mitch praises, and he lifts Ollie up onto his back so that they can do a victory lap around the pool while Ollie lifts his hands up in the air and cheers like he just won the Stanley Cup. Auston splashes Mitch when he comes past, and Mitch sputters indignantly at him.

 

“Get him for me Ollie,” he says, and then it’s an all-out water fight that has Auston laughing harder than he can remember in a long time.

 

*

 

Ollie wants to watch a movie after their swim so Mitch puts on Moana and orders them pizza even though it’s definitely not in their diet plans. About half-way through the movie though, Ollie passes out with tomato sauce all over his face. Mitch snorts when he looks over, but his face is fond when he cleans him up and carries him into the guestroom. When he comes back, they don’t bother switching the movie (Auston’s invested now, he needs to see her save her village, especially after that scene with her grandma’s spirit), and they demolish the rest of the pizza easily between the two of them. It’s comfortable, the way it always is with Mitch.

 

When the credits start rolling, Auston feels warm and content all over. He stretches his arms up high above his head, and when he drops them back by his side, he asks, “So how long have you been doing these lessons with Ollie? Doesn’t he know you play hockey?”

 

Mitch laughs a little and stretches his legs out in front of him. Auston tries really hard not to stare.

 

“He can’t really put together that I’m Mitch Marner the hockey player but also Mitch, his neighbour that plays with him and teaches him how to swim and knows a lot about hockey,” Mitch says with a grin. “And don’t get a big head. You might be his favourite ‘Leafs player’ but I’m like his favourite person _ever_ , outside of people who buy him shit.”

 

“I’m sure,” Auston says, and Mitch shoves him with a laugh.

 

“I saw his parents trying to get him used to the water a year ago. Ollie absolutely hated it though. Refused to be anywhere near it,” Mitch says. “So I thought I’d give it a shot. Show him that he doesn’t have to be scared.” Mitch lifts his legs up and crosses them under him on the couch. “Took me a while to convince him though, but now he absolutely loves it. He wants to swim all the time, and he wants me to take him to the ocean one day.” Mitch looks so damn proud, like after a hard-fought game and he finally earned himself a compliment from Babs as a reward.

 

Auston smiles. He gets it now. Or rather, Auston feels like he understands another part of Mitch, and things are clearing up, the way Mitch made it his personal mission to show Ollie that he doesn’t have to be afraid, just like how Mitch helped Auston through his own fears. Mitch said it was selfish, but Auston gets it. The same way Auston wants to show everyone the best parts of his hometown, Mitch is doing it in his own way.

 

“Let me know when you take Ollie,” Auston says with a smile. “I’ll surprise him by bringing his favourite hockey player.”

 

Mitch throws his head back and laughs, but when he meets Auston’s eyes again, he looks overwhelmed. His eyes are watery and there’s a relieved smile on his face. “Thanks for, you know, not acting differently.”

 

“You’re still Mitch,” Auston says without thinking, and that’s when he realizes that he truly means it. It’s the simple but honest truth. Mitch is always going to be Mitch, dazzling hockey player on the ice, merfolk in the sea, but always, _always_ , Auston’s best friend, the one he can’t imagine being in Toronto without, and the glue that holds their team together. He’s the same Mitch that Auston’s always wanted.

 

Mitch isn’t crying, but he’s definitely sniffling as he pulls Auston in for a hug. He wraps his arms tight around Auston’s waist, and it’s awkward because his bony knees are jabbing Auston in the thigh, but Auston doesn’t want to let go so he hugs back as tightly as he can. It feels so good to be wrapped around Mitch like this, to sink into the warmth of his body and marvel at the way they always _fit_. He presses his cheek against the side of Mitch’s head, tucked right into Auston’s neck like he wants to find a place for himself there.

 

Auston’s not sure how long they stay like that, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been long enough when Mitch pulls back slowly. He doesn’t go far though because he surprises Auston when he presses their foreheads together and rubs the tip of his nose against Auston’s in a gesture that feels much too intimate. Auston freezes, and all he can do is stare when Mitch pulls back all the way this time, his cheeks flushed a bright pink.

 

It’s too damn confusing, the way Mitch is sometimes. One minute he’s pulling away, but the next he’s coming back closer than before. It makes Auston _want_ , even if he knows he shouldn’t because that’s the way things need to be. Auston wants to call Mitch out on it, but he knows that’s not fair, and it’s not easy for Mitch either.

 

“I’m glad you took a shot on hockey,” Auston says, because it’s true. Everyone can see how happy Mitch is whenever he’s on the ice, and Auston can’t imagine not having Mitch beside him when he first joined the team in Toronto. “That’s something worth taking a risk for.” Unlike _us_ , Auston doesn’t say, but judging by the way Mitch’s eyes go wide, he probably heard it anyway.

 

*

 

The season wraps up with a bang, both for the team and Auston. It’s not like Auston was coasting before, but it felt like magic every time he touched the puck in their last big push, and in no time at all, he took over the scoring lead on the team and claimed the Rocket before their last game. He just kept scoring and the team kept winning, and for the first time in over a decade, they make it past the first round. Auston doesn’t want this feeling to end, the euphoric rush as the city erupted and cheered until their voices were hoarse. Auston wants to keep it going and going, because they’re one step closer to their ultimate goal. One step closer to keeping Mitch here for as long as he wants.

 

They get so close that Auston can almost feel the weight of the Cup in his hands until reality yanks the ground right from under their feet.

 

The mood in the room is predictably somber. Auston feels like his insides got carved out. He goes through the motions of showering and getting dressed, but when he’s done, Mitch is still sitting in his stall with his pads on and he’s hunched over so that no one can see his face. He sees Naz pat him on the head as he walks back, hears him say, “Chin up kid, we’ll get them back next time.” Mitch barely makes a sound to acknowledge him, and Auston can see a few of the older guys step forward like they want to intervene so Auston gestures to them to back off as he walks over to Mitch’s stall instead. He waits for whoever’s still left in the locker room to leave and give them some space before he finally speaks.

 

“We’ll be better next time,” Auston says carefully. Mitch makes an ugly sound and when he looks up, his eyes are red, his face is blotchy, and he looks like the picture of misery. Auston feels his chest ache at the sight of him. “We’re all going to be better.”

 

“We already _were_ ,” Mitch protests, his voice cracking when he speaks. “We got Johnny and we were mostly healthy and you won the fucking _Rocket_ and we still couldn’t pull it off. Next year…“ Mitch stops, like he needs a second, and he takes a deep breath before he continues. “Next year… who knows who’s going to be left? The team’s not going to be the same. Everything went right and we still fucking failed. What if this is it?”

 

“Hey,” Auston says, and he repeats it again when it looks like Mitch isn’t paying attention. He wraps a hand around the back of Mitch’s neck and forces him to meet Auston’s eyes when he says, “We’ll be back. This won’t be our last shot.”

 

Mitch’s breaths are shaky and his eyes are watery when he meets Auston’s eyes. “It’s another year _gone_ ,” Mitch practically sobs, like this was just another year wasted, and it breaks Auston’s heart in more ways than one.

 

“It wasn’t fucking wasted. You were _amazing_ out there. You led the team in every possible way. That’s not nothing. That’s worth _more_ than a trophy,” Auston reminds him. Mitch looks back at him with wide eyes like he doesn’t know what to think about Auston’s words. “And next year, we’re all going to work just as hard as you, and we’re going to be fucking better. Me, you, Willy, _everyone_ , we’re all going to be better. I promise.”

 

Mitch stares, and stares, and _stares_ , but he doesn’t say anything else as he leans into Auston and holds on as tightly as he can, like Auston’s his lifeline this time.

 

*

 

Mitch shows up at Auston’s door a few days after they get eliminated from the playoffs. They’ve already done cleanout and interviews and post-elimination dinners with the team, so he’s a little surprised to see Mitch still around since he usually disappears right after. Auston’s already got his flights booked to go home in a couple of days too, but he’s been putting off packing so he welcomes Mitch as a distraction. When Auston finally takes the time to look, he can see that Mitch looks much better now. His eyes are blue and clear once more, no longer dull and red-rimmed from their flameout, and the defeat no longer looks permanently etched into his features making him look drained and disheartened.

 

“What are you doing here?” Auston asks, not that he minds as he steps aside to let Mitch in. Once the door closes behind him, Mitch turns around and the determined look in his eyes reminds Auston of the way he is when he sets his mind on a play and he’s going to find a way to make it work no matter how many defenders he has to go through to put the puck on net.

 

“I’m here to take my shot,” Mitch says. Before Auston can ask him what he means by that, Mitch steps forward and grabs Auston’s face with both hands and kisses him.

 

Mitch’s lips are soft against Auston’s, and he’s kissing him like he’s throwing everything he has into it, like he has something to prove. It’s intense, a toe-curling good kiss that makes Auston a little weak in the knees, and it’s all Auston can do to hold on as he squeezes Mitch’s hips and tries to catch up and follow Mitch’s lead.

 

When they pull apart, Mitch rests his forehead against Auston’s, and they’re close enough that Auston can feel his warm breaths against his lips. He can still see the determined look in Mitch’s eyes, even if he doesn’t understand it.

 

“Why now?” Auston asks, even if this is everything that he’s wanted. He doesn’t want to be a consolation prize for Mitch though, something he’ll settle for when he couldn’t get what he really wants. He wants Mitch to be all in, just like he is.

 

“If you asked me whether I would still make that deal even if I knew I would never win the Cup, I’d say yes, ten times out of ten,” Mitch says. That’s not what Auston was asking, but he tries to be patient while he waits for Mitch to continue. He can feel the hope start to build inside of him, and he really, _really_ hopes this is going where he thinks it is, because he’s not sure he can handle it if Mitch walks away from this again. 

 

“Winning the Cup just means I can keep doing this longer,” Mitch continues. “Not winning doesn’t mean I can’t still play now. You reminded me of that.” Mitch’s eyes are wide and open right now, and Auston can’t handle the hope that’s bubbling over inside of him. “I want to keep playing until I can’t anymore, and if that means when my deal runs out or if I get hurt or I’m too old… it doesn’t matter. I’m going to play every game like it’s going to be my last.”

 

Auston closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’s not sure he can look at Mitch right now. His heart is racing inside of his chest. “So what does that mean for us?” Auston asks when the silence drags on too long for him to handle.

 

“It means,” Mitch says, “that I don’t want to be afraid anymore. You told me that I took a chance with hockey, and you were right. But right now, I want to take a chance on _us_ , if you’re okay with it, if you’re okay with not knowing what might happen tomorrow. I want to _try_.”

 

Auston can’t help the smile that stretches wide across his face as he opens his eyes, the hope and affection bursts to the surface from Mitch’s words, and he pulls Mitch in to kiss him hard.

 

“Okay, let’s do this.”

 

*

 

Auston flounders for what to do next. He’s never dated his close friend before, but he realizes it doesn’t really matter because Mitch is still Mitch. He’s still Auston’s best friend that knows everything about him, the same guy that likes to come up with silly schemes to troll their teammates on Fortnite or in the room, the one that makes Auston’s heart flip with just a look; everything is the same, except now Auston’s allowed to lean over and kiss him when he says something ridiculous that makes Auston happy. Auston doesn’t have to hide how he feels around him anymore, doesn’t have to worry about being too transparent with his emotions. Not when Mitch’s masks are always stripped bare for the world to see, the way he wears his heart on his sleeve, and Auston has no idea how he’s missed the way Mitch has looked at him for so long.

 

It’s kind of amazing how little actually changes, and Mitch stays with him until he has to leave to go back to Scottsdale. For the first time, Auston dreads going home, not because he doesn’t miss his family, but because of how new this thing with Mitch is. He wants to stay and savour it.

 

He wakes up from their nap and sees Mitch staring at him. It startles him enough that he flinches, and Auston laughs a little as he settles back down on the pillow. His eyes drift shut with a small smile on his face as he says, “That’s creepy.”

 

“Sorry,” Mitch says, but he doesn’t sound like he means it at all.

 

Auston’s eyes flutter open again when he feels Mitch’s fingers trace over the bridge of his nose and then across his brows. His touch is gentle as he repeats the motions a few more times, and then he’s smiling as he leans in to kiss Auston softly on the lips like morning breath isn’t a thing. He presses their foreheads together briefly before brushing their noses together, his hand gentle as he cups the side of Auston’s face.

 

“You’ve been doing that more now,” Auston says when Mitch settles back down on his pillow. The gesture feels nice even if Auston doesn’t always understand what Mitch is trying to tell him, but he wants to learn. “Does it mean something?”

 

Mitch is quiet for a moment while Auston blinks the sleep out of his eyes to clear the blurriness from his vision. “It’s for people we care about,” Mitch says. He looks nervous, and Auston tries to smile encouragingly at him so that he’ll continue. He places a hand on the curve of Mitch’s hip and squeezes lightly. It works, or at least it gives Mitch whatever assurance he needed to lean forward and let their foreheads touch again. “This means you’re important to me.”

 

Auston feels his grip tighten unconsciously. He tries not to think back to how long Mitch has been doing it and how Auston always thought it was just another one of his weird tics, but it’s hard not to flash back to every single one of those moments when his chest gets all warm and fuzzy just from the thought of it.

 

“And this,” Mitch continues as he presses forward and brushes their noses together, “means I love you.” Mitch pulls back all the way, his face flushed bright pink, and he looks nervous but not like he regrets saying anything.

 

If Auston thought his chest was warm and full before, it’s nothing compared to what he’s feeling right now, and he has to push Mitch onto back so that he can lean in and return the gesture tenfold because he has to do _something_ to show Mitch what he means to him. Mitch laughs loudly from Auston’s almost too aggressive nose-kisses, but Auston can’t help it, he feels like he’s bursting with happiness and affection and love for Mitch right now. There aren’t enough words in the world that can express the magnitude of what he feels for Mitch.

 

Auston can’t predict the future. He doesn’t know what’ll happen next season, can’t promise that they’ll reach the holy grail of hockey, and likewise, he knows he can’t (and won’t) ask Mitch to stay or make him promise to come back. That’s not what this is about, and Auston would never expect Mitch to do either of those things. All he can focus on is the _now_ , the way Mitch’s eyes are lighting up as he looks up at Auston like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen, like he’s everything he’s ever wanted, and Auston has to kiss him again and rub their noses together until it makes them both laugh and go cross-eyed. It’s the happiest Auston’s felt in a long time, and that’s all that matters.

 

One day at a time.


End file.
